Not Meant to Be
by Auto-Alchemechanicist
Summary: In which England recognizes, releases, and takes care of his sadness.


**Challenge: 18: Flag  
Rating: K+  
****Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.  
Part of LiveJournal's HetaChallenge Monthly Theme Challenge!**

England sighed as he looked at the passing waves and his flag that fluttered in the air, melancholy building up as he tried not to remember what had happened. He was on a ship back to his country, unwillingly leaving behind the one boy he had called family for many years. He had run out of tears to shed; if anything, the waves could be the tears he had cried after that damn war came to a closure. He couldn't believe it. After so much hard work, after so much care, he was kicked out of the home he built, the place he funded and called a second home. By the boy that was considered his son.

He furrowed his eyebrows and stood from the crate he had been sitting on, all the while looking at the sea. He had been holding his musket with a tight grip, but it softened when he realized his palms ached. Fighting the painful memories from rushing to his mind, he decided to get rid of it. Why would he keep something that would only hurt him? With a swift swing from his arm, he threw it as hard and as far as he could into the water. The sailors of the ship observed his behavior quietly, not wanting to make a sound so as to not disturb him. He turned from the sight of the waves and strutted towards the inside of the ship where his office was. He had no intention of talking to anyone.

Once he entered his office, he closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a breath he did not realize he was holding.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"How could you?" he asked the air as if it were the one responsible for his misery.

"I gave you everything...I gave you a home, I cared for you. I gave you love. Everything..." He had made his way to his desk as he spoke. He rested his hands on the smooth wood before taking in a sharp breath. "And yet, it wasn't enough...you ungrateful brat!"

With anger and despair, he knocked the contents of his desk to the floor, shattering porcelain cups and spilling ink, throwing documents and loose pieces of papers, and making a complete mess of his work area.

"You could have told me, but _NO_, you had to go on and _REVOLT_."

He held his face in his hands as he tried not to cry. It hurt so much.

"I don't blame you...I don't hate you, either. I could never hate you. If anything, I hate myself. I couldn't stop this. I couldn't stop you. I couldn't change your mind. And quite frankly...I would have revolted as well. I'm sorry..."

There was nothing he could do except sob at that point.

"Damn it, America, why? We could have...agreed on something...something that could have fixed this..."

He looked up and saw one of his cabinets that had a British flag covering on it before walking over to it. He opened one of the drawers and took out a folded piece of cloth.

He contemplated it before spreading it out, looked it over and squeezed it in his hands.

"You were supposed to be my heir, you dolt. I had chosen you, out of all my colonies, to take care of things if I ever died, or if I was ever killed. If I ever came to and end. I raised you well enough for you to know how to take care of things. And this was supposed to be for you."

The piece of cloth he held was a replica of the British flag. But in the very center was a golden A embroidered with beautiful stitchings. It also had distinct stars around it, wonderfully sewn on to be admired. 13 to be exact.

"This was for you, but you won't want it."

The candles that lit the room caught his attention and walked hastily to them and retrieved one from its spot.

"I don't want it either."

With one swift movement, he passed the flame over the flag and watched it burn. Better to get rid of that, too if he didn't want the reminder.

* * *

**A/N: I feel so bad that I didn't get to post my stuff from the past months, but I've been busy with school. I wanted to get this on here because I love England so much, and as my favorite, I think he deserves some of my time and writing (he's such an attention whore; he hogs nearly all of my fics with his self goshdarnit, but I love him for that). I hope you all enjoy. If I get some emotion out of you all, that means my job was done. ^-^**

**-Auto-**


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